The Crucible
by TheSanguinor
Summary: While investigating mysterious operations carried out by the Mechanicum, a band of Soul Drinkers Space Marines find themselves in a fight for survival as they cross an Ork-infested planet in a stolen Stompa that carries a secret weapon.
1. Prologue

_Prologue_:

Grox sat by the campfire along with 40 or so other Orks. He was in a foul mood, which was mirrored on every face in the group. The Boss had gotten mad at Grox and his squad during the last fight, and had sent them to the back of the army. The thuggish ork absentmindedly kicked a grot as it walked by. He managed a toothy grin as it doubled in pain, then limped off, shouting curses back at him. Grox was tempted to shoot the little thing, but decided against it as he saw it walk up to its master: the Nob in charge of his squad.

Bored again, Grox looked back at the warehouse they were guarding.

_Why does da Boss want us to guard dis so bad?_ He thought. _I ain't seen nuthin' but da Mech runnin' in an' outta dere since we got 'ere. Wut's in dere?_

His thoughts, relatively complex for an ork, were interrupted by a booming sound in the sky. Grox looked up to see about five (not that Grox could count) blazing shapes falling from space toward their position.

"Oy! Oy!" He shouted, pointing up. "The stars is fallin'!"

The rest of the horde of boys looked up, noticing the strange phenomenon. When it appeared that the stars were headed right for them, the Nob jumped up.

"To yer weapons, lads! SCRAM!" He roared.

Pandemonium ensued as the boys ran for their guns, bumping into each other and trying to avoid getting trampled or crushed. The campsite was cleared just barely a minute before the falling fireballs crashed into the ground. The dirt shook, what foliage was left splintered and caught fire, chunks of rock were thrown skyward, and only a few boys were crushed.

A moment passed. Grox poked his head around the boulder behind which he had taken cover, and looked in awe at what had smashed the clearing. Great teardrops of ceramic plating and steel stood in craters throughout the ruined campsite, each covered in purple and bone paint, with highlights of gold. Emblazoned on every one was a golden cup, more beautiful than any Grox had ever seen.

A few seconds later, there was a hissing noise, and the grind of machinery filled the camp. The teardrops were opening up! In mere moments, the teardrops suddenly resembled great insects, with legs splayed around them. Light exploded from the interior of the teardrops, flooding the clearing and blinding the orks. It was all the distraction needed.

Guns mounted inside the teardrops roared to life, cutting through what little cover there was and pulping a third of the boys. Grox slowly regained his sight, seeing great figures leaping from the pods, their guns slicing through his comrades. He recognized them instantly, and howled with hatred.

"_SPACE MARINES!"_


	2. En Medias Res

Chapter 1:

First Captain Cassius Arturo strode through the dimly lit halls of the _Shadow of Regret_, examining the data slate in his hand. He stopped a moment, listening to the warp drives as they hummed, propelling the cruiser through the immaterium towards its next mission. The Soul Drinkers ship had been in the warp for a week, none but the ship's captain and Captain Arturo knowing where they were headed.

The Captain began walking again, scrolling through the information on the data slate. The Soul Drinkers' Command had intercepted several transmissions between Imperial forces on the planet Jaenesh and the Mechanicum of Mars. Ever since the theft of the Soul Spear by Mechanicum forces, the Soul Drinkers had taken particular interest in disrupting any actions taken by the Tech-Priests of the Machine Cult. Though much of the messages intercepted remained to be deciphered, the shear volume of information exchanged and the continuous use of Carmine-level encryption suggested something big. Whatever it was, the Soul Drinkers code-breakers had managed to make out that an entire Mechanicus battlefleet had been dispatched from Mars not ten days beforehand. Once this had been realized, Soul Drinkers Command had dispatched their own force, consisting of 50 battle-brothers and one small attack cruiser, to make planetfall before the Mechanicus arrived and uncover the reason for this sudden burst of activity.

The planet Jaenesh had been under siege for several years by orks of Waaagh! Ripjaw. It was a relatively small Waaagh!, all things considered, made up of only 100,000 orks and covering only 5 systems. The main reason the Imperium had gotten involved was that in the Waaagh!'s path lay the forgeworld of Termanthia. Termanthia had been a vital supplier of plasma weaponry during campaigns dating back to the Horus Heresy, and remained one of the few prominent manufacturers of the unstable technology. When the Tenth Expedition had rediscovered the planet during the Great Crusade, the local population had been armed with ancient, yet quite advanced, plasma weapons. The Imperials had reverse-engineered the weapons as best they could; yet the new versions were never as stable or reliable as their older counterparts had been. Now the orks were bearing down upon the vital forgeworld, and several divisions of Imperial Guard had been mustered to its defense. The line was currently being held at Jaenesh, and it was clear that either the orks or the Imperials had found something there.

Captain Arturo stepped through the hatch into the arming chambers of the ship. Every one of his handpicked team was standing beside his designated alcove, each already armored in their gleaming purple and bone, steel and ceramite shells.

"Good," The Captain said, "we're all here. I do not have to tell you that this mission will be one unlike what we are used to. This operation will try us not in our skills at arms or lightning warfare, but in stealth. Our primary objective is to discover the reasons for the Mechanicum's sudden interest in the planet Jaenesh. We all know of the grievances done against us by those filthy cyborgs, so once we discover their intentions we are to disrupt them or turn their actions into our gain. Cold and fast, Soul Drinkers! We will be exiting the Warp within the hour. Ready your minds for the coming of the Emperor's call." The Soul Drinkers present saluted, thunderously hailing their Emperor. Captain Arturo returned their salute, and exited the arming chamber, heading for the bridge.

The most unique aspect of the Soul Drinkers Chapter was that they were free. They held no allegiance to the Imperium. In fact, they were officially ranked as Excommunicate Traitoris in the annals of the Administratum. However, neither were they held under the sway of the corrupting winds of Chaos. The Soul Drinkers served none but the will of the Emperor Himself, believing the Imperium to be a corrupt, self-serving monster that devoured and consumed all held under its sway. With no holds barred, the Soul Drinkers used their new place in the universe to serve the Emperor in ways inconceivable to those who operated under Imperial Law. Yet the Soul Drinkers, like any Space Marine chapter, did not forget old grudges. At every opportunity, they slighted and disrupted the Imperial Machine, knowing that they were wreaking havoc not just on the attempts by the Imperium to drag more worlds into its gaping maw, but also on the pencil-pushers in the dark halls of the Administratum.

Captain Arturo passed a porthole, pausing for a brief moment to observe the constant change occurring outside the Warp shields guarding the ship's inhabitants from being consumed by the daemonic minds that ruled the Warp. Though his campaigns numbered many, and his space flight hours were enough for a lifetime, Cassius Arturo never ceased to hold a bit of child-like wonder for the sight of the Warp. It was amazing that a thing of such beauty could hold so much raw malice and evil beyond reckoning. The captain shook himself out of his revere and continued onward to the bridge of the ship.


	3. Arcana Imperii

Chapter 2:

Guardsmen drink. A lot. Even in the trenches on the front lines, opportunists amongst the Imperial ranks have been known to sell smuggled liquors during rare lulls in shooting. Wherever the Imperial Guard set up its base of operations, the only rival to the number of barracks in the camp was the number of hastily constructed bars. Another well-known fact was that when Guardsmen drink themselves into oblivion, they like to talk. It was based on this fact that the Soul Drinkers based their opening operations.

Captain Arturo dexterously slid his bulk out of one of the afore-mentioned bars in near-disgust. It was the twenty-third bar he had scouted, and as of yet he had nothing for his efforts. Veteran Sergeant Grant Zekk leaned against a light-post just aside from the entrance.

"No luck in this one either?" he asked.

The captain shook his head. "The depravities these lowlifes sink to knows no bounds."

Sergeant Zekk laughed. "They are mere men, brother! Many of whom probably were conscripted. They are trying to forget that they are simply cannon fodder for the Imperial Machine."

"Which is exactly why Chapter Master Sarpedon led us away from it."

"Too true, Cassius. Too true."

The captain stepped into an alley and opened an encrypted vox channel.

"First to Second. How go things on your end?"

After a brief burst of static, the voice of Veteran Sergeant Gregorio Vrax crackled in the captain's earpiece.

"Still nothing on our end, brother. Moving on to Sector forty-three."

Captain Arturo switched channels.

"First to Third and Fourth. Report."

Both responses came back negative. Before the captain could contact Infiltrations Fifth and Sixth, Seventh voxed in.

"Captain, sir!" It was the voice of Lieutenant Harper.

"Seventh, this is First. Go ahead."

"It's not much, sir, but I think we might have a lead on whatever the Mechanicum is so interested in."

"Report your position, Lieutenant." Captain Arturo started walking even as the Lieutenant called out the numbers.

Lieutenant Brutus Harper's position was the officer's club, or one of them, located on the far side of the camp. After walking at a steady pace for almost half an hour, Captain Arturo and Sergeant Zekk stepped into the dimly lit hovel. The place reeked of cheap beer and cigar smoke. Nearly every table was filled with young officers swapping war stories, showing off scars, or just drinking whatever was placed in front of them. Several scantily clad women danced at one end of the room, and Arturo averted his eyes, trying to retain some semblance of dignity.

Lieutenant Harper was not difficult to pick out of the crowd, his enhanced body taking up the seating space of three normal officers. The man seated across from him was clearly not entirely present. His clothes roughed and muddied, hat smashed on the table under his elbow, and he was nearly surrounded by empty beer mugs. The lieutenant beckoned his commanding officers over, and the captain and sergeant squeezed in to flank the drunken young man.

"Please, Lukas," Harper said in a friendly tone, "Tell my friends what you were just telling me."

The officer, apparently Lukas, squinted up at the new figures on either side of him. "Wh- why is y'all so biiiiig?" He slurred.

The lieutenant chuckled. "We're just big-boned. Our mothers used to scare us saying that we might have some Ogryn in us!"

Officer Lukas managed a choked laugh. "An- an- anyways. Like I was tellin' yer (hic) buddy here. Whenev- (hic) whenever we goes to the front, the commisars is always tellin' (hic) us that we're gonna 'Get the warehouse!' they says. Ev-er-y fight it's, 'Get the warehouse!' I don' (hic) even know what the bloody heck is even IN the stup- stupid (hic) warehouse!"

Captain Arturo leaned in. "Where is this warehouse, Lukas?"

The young officer flung his arm out, pointing west. "Somewheres (hic) thataway, mebbe 'bout (hic) halfaway cross the cont- continent."

Cassius leaned over to Sergeant Zekk. "Step outside, contact the _Regret_, and have them do a sweep in that general area." The sergeant nodded and walked off.

"Whatevers in the darned (hic) thing, it's got ev'rybody all riled up," Officer Lukas continued. "Tellin' us the friggin' Mech- Mech- (hic) Mechanicus's comin' in! I don', don' know wha- what this galaxy's comin' to."

"Thank you, Officer." Lieutenant Harper placed an enormous hand on the diminutive man's shoulder. "You've been wonderful company."

"Here," Captain Arturo tossed an Imperial credit onto the table. "That one's on me."

Officer Lukas snatched at the coin, squinted at it, then fell face-first onto the table and began snoring loudly.


End file.
